


Heartbreak and Holly (A Wreath of Cedar, a Crown of Pine)

by JamieisClassic



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Running Away, The Feast of Winter Veil, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28324992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic
Summary: Nathanos feels unworthy of spending the holidays with Shaw and Anduin, afraid to get in the way of their relationship, so he leaves. He learns eventually that he was being an idiot.
Relationships: Mathias Shaw/Anduin Wrynn, Nathanos Blightcaller/Mathias Shaw/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Heartbreak and Holly (A Wreath of Cedar, a Crown of Pine)

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Christmas present for a dear friend, and honestly, I'm pretty happy with it. warning for some serious angst and stupid, idiot boys, but I hope you all enjoy it!

The Forsaken celebrated few holidays with vigour aside from Hallow’s End and as such Nathanos couldn’t help but ache inside in that unusual way he so often did around Shaw and Anduin when he noticed them setting up a wreath of cedar and holly on Anduin’s door. Pine was more traditional, or so it had been explained when he’d asked, but it also was messier and Anduin figured cedar was close enough. Nonetheless, even asking questions and trying to be involved made him ache — there was nothing he wanted more than to be a part of this bright, beautiful thing he saw in front of him (the holiday or the relationship between Shaw and Anduin he wasn’t sure) but knew in the depths of his heart that something like him would never truly belong. 

That evening he’d slipped out as the two lovers were decorating a tree in Anduin’s parlor — a private one, for just them — and made his way down to the stables where his hounds were being kept despite the stablemaster’s clear displeasure. He wasn’t sure how or when he’d decided he would be leaving, but watching Shaw delicately hang a hand-made ornament on the tree that made Anduin grin and kiss him had been too much. Unsure where he was going, he took his hounds and made his way north to the tram, hoping that at least that would be harder to trace than his footsteps in the light snow that dusted Elowyn this time of year. 

Thankfully it was late enough that few commuters were about and he was able to slip onto a tram without anyone seeming to notice, and once it was moving towards Ironforge he collapsed into a chair and petted his hounds’ heads where they rested against his lap. What was this feeling in his chest? This strange ache that started under his ribs and reached up into his throat that felt so much like heartburn? He growled to himself and wished it away, though shoving it to the back of his mind did nothing to actually remove the feeling itself. 

When the tram arrived in Ironforge he tossed his hood up and rushed through the strange and overhot underground city that was both so much and absolutely nothing like Undercity in a way that only added to the pain already aching in his chest. Finally free, he let in a deep lungful of the freezing mountain air of Khaz Modan as he started trekking… somewhere. The cold didn’t bother him, nor did it affect his hounds, so as he wandered through the thigh-deep snow into the mountains he simply let his mind wander to why he had left in the first place, what had driven him away, and all he could come up with was how  _ other _ he felt in the presence of the love between Shaw and Anduin. But… why did he even care? 

With a sigh, he continued to trek on and on until finally he grew bored of the strain, not exactly tired, but not exactly not tired either, and decided to build himself a small shelter in the woods. As he did, shoving snow about to form something of a well to rest in big enough for him and his hounds, he noticed something on his peripheral and froze. He tried to look about as subtly as possible, but evidently something about his body language had given away that he’d noticed whoever was there because no matter how carefully he looked he couldn’t seem to find anything besides himself and his hounds in the desolate winter landscape. It was evening, already dark and freezing cold, so he doubted anyone would have been stupid enough to follow him out here, but just in case he packed up his things and decided to keep moving. 

The snow impeded him, but he figured it would slow down anyone following him as well so that wasn’t much of a problem, never mind the fact that he was able to keep going without needing to stop for food or water or warmth. For all the undead were good at seeing in darkness, the deepness of the wood and the lightlessness of a snow-flurried sky made it difficult to navigate except for his innate sense of direction, and after a number of hours, he stopped again, confident he’d lost whoever was tailing him. He built his shelter and curled under a blanket with his dogs to wait out the night. 

As he drifted closer and closer to the restful half-sleep some undead were capable of, a horrifying thought struck him: he had no idea who was tailing him, and if they were living, they may well die from exposure overnight. Surely they were smart enough to know that and have doubled back but what if they hadn’t? For all he wished he didn’t give a single fuck, he knew he’d never forgive himself for even tangentially causing the death of one of Shaw’s agents. 

Sighing, he stood and peered into the darkness of the thick woods and called out tentatively, “Hello? Who’s out there?” When he got no response he added, “I won’t attack, I just want to tell you I’m not coming back and that you should stop this imbecilic venture before it kills you!” 

Still, no response, no sound of movement beyond the vaguely howling wind, and he slumped back down with his hounds figuring that was good enough. If the idiot was even still there and they didn’t leave that was on them, but despite knowing that, he couldn’t help but worry and worry about who it was and just what would happen to them out in the freezing cold all night as he tried to return to his state of half-sleep. And thus, as the sun finally rose and brought some light to the sky, he felt cold and exhausted in a way he hadn’t since that stint he’d spent in the Stormwind dungeons after Anduin’s men captured him up on Marris Stead over a year ago. How they’d managed to divert Sylvanas’s plans was still a mystery to him, having been kept both literally and metaphorically in the dark while in the dungeons for Light knew how long until Anduin had come in, bright in so many ways, to save him from himself. 

That felt like ages ago, even if it had only been months, and for all the distance he's put between himself and the beautiful young king, he couldn’t help but feel an anxious fear that something bad would happen to him in his absence. He shook himself from his anxieties and put his blanket back into his pack, preparing for another day trekking into the wilderness to give himself distance from the thing he wanted more than anything but couldn’t have. Each step away from Anduin and his warmth, from Shaw and his wit, was agony, but a better agony than that of being there, of having kindness given to him despite how little he deserved it, and how little he truly belonged. He knew eventually they would see that he wasn’t worthy of their company, that he would only ruin their relationship by just being there, so in order to stave off that pain, he knew being as far from them as possible was necessary. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss them desperately, though. 

As he started to trek through the snow once again, his heart and head turned the problem over and over — one trying to find reasons to return, every possible excuse it could come up with to run back to the love and light of the men he’d accidentally fallen for, and the other firing back every reason he needed to stay away, not least of which how much he  _ wanted _ to return. In the midst of this argument, he found himself turned around and quite without meaning to, he had doubled back and was walking towards Ironforge instead of away. Normally, he would have berated himself for this, and was about to when something caught his eye that made his heart jump in his chest if just for one beat: a foot sticking up from the snow not meters from where he’d camped the night before.  _ Fuck. _

All his panic came rushing back as he struggled through the snow as fast as he could toward the half-buried form, terror gripping him more resolutely than any emotion had since he had been raised all those years ago. Once he reached them, he immediately brushed the snow off and looked for signs of life, which he found if only barely. The person was still breathing shallowly, form ever so faintly shaking, likely too weak to be shivering any harder, and he was momentarily shocked that they were even alive until he noticed the magical embroidery stitched into their outerwear that likely kept them somewhat warm despite the freezing temperature. The second thing he noticed was that it was SI:7 garb and thus definitely one of Shaw’s agents. 

Served them right for staying out in the snow all night, he thought, but he could respect following orders to one’s own detriment, and so he pulled them from the snow and pulled the cloth away from their face where it was wrapped to protect from exposure to give them something to drink from a canteen he found on them. He froze, however, when he caught sight of a familiar red mustache. No, no there was no way Shaw had come to retrieve him himself… was there? 

Shaking himself from his shock, he worked on trying to wake Shaw enough to get him to drink. He had no luck, the man unresponsive no matter how he shook him or begged or yelled at him to wake, and somehow, deep in his chest, he knew the man wouldn’t make it unless he was brought to a healer, and fast. Yet, despite all that, he couldn’t help but wish to never return to Stormwind after this failure.

_ You did this,  _ whispered a voice in his mind,  _ you killed him by running away, you selfish prick. He’ll definitely never love you now, not that he ever could have.  _ He grit his teeth and tried to block out the voice, but his attempts only summoned the face of his beloved cousin, the very face he now wore, twisted in terror and betrayal in his final moments. How many more times would he fail the people he cared for? How many more times would he prove himself unworthy of love? 

Frustrated and furious with himself, he was drawn out of a spiral of surprising emotion by one of his hounds nosing his side and whining. He startled and looked down at her, then back at the near-dead form of Shaw lying there in the snow. If there was nothing else he could do with his miserable life, at the least he could save him before paying for his mistakes to the crown, probably with death. This level of error couldn’t be forgiven, not even by one so gentle as Anduin Wrynn, and strangely he found himself at peace with the idea of dying for this man’s life. There wasn’t much else he was worth, not after the death of Sylvanas and the dissipation of the Forsaken into the ranks of the Alliance under Calia’s leadership, it was only fair to give it to someone dedicated enough to his job to nearly die for it. 

With a grunt and a tip of his head, his hounds started helping him dig the man out of the snow, and as he pulled him up to position him over his shoulders, he realized that Shaw had managed to follow him so effectively not because of pure skill, but because he had tools. Still half-buried in the snow were a pair of snowshoes, and when his hounds brought them to him he gently deposited Shaw back down for a moment while he strapped into them before lifting him again and starting back toward Ironforge. He hiked and hiked for what felt like hours but was probably not more than forty minutes or so if the sun was to be believed before a thought struck him and he felt entirely like an idiot: he didn’t carry one himself, but Shaw possibly had a hearthstone to return to Stormwind with. 

Once again gently depositing the man in the snow, he did notice for the first time that he was lighter than he’d expected a lithe-but-well-muscled man such as Shaw to be, but he brushed the thought off as he searched through his pack looking for the object in question. Not finding one, even after checking every pocket twice, he felt briefly despondent — Shaw would die out here in the cold and it was his fault entirely for not at least telling them not to follow him — but then he figured he’d look in the man’s clothing as well, just in case. Patting him down he found a surprisingly low number of daggers (three), an intellect potion (instead of poison?), a strange amulet that looked vaguely familiar (a lion), a pocketbook of prayers to the Light (strange), and, finally, a teleportation stone that looked like a hearthstone but different. He could swear he’d seen it somewhere before, but he couldn’t place where and didn’t have the time to ponder it.

Without hesitation, he commanded his hounds to return to Stormwind, trusting they’d find their own way eventually, bundled the man in his arms, and activated the stone. The magic was slower to start than he’d hoped, probably attuned to Shaw specifically, but eventually, it picked up what he was trying to do with it and spun warm, golden light around them before the freezing mountains around them dissipated in exchange for a warm hearth, tall and full to the brim bookshelves and a small pine decorated festively. This was… Anduin’s parlour? That didn’t seem right, Shaw would know better than to keep something that would enter Stormwind castle on his person just in case he was captured or killed in the field. 

Before he could question it further, he heard a slam and loud shout from the office directly adjacent to the parlor, “What do you  _ mean _ he isn’t anywhere in the city? FIND HIM IMMEDIATELY!” 

That… was Shaw’s voice, and he sounded more panicked and furious than Nathanos had ever heard him. How… No way.  _ No. _

Panicking, especially when the agents left the office to find him there with “Shaw” in his lap, he reached beneath the person in his lap’s armor and took a grip on the amulet he’d found earlier. He thought it looked familiar but he hadn’t been able to remember why… it was too absurd, far too absurd. 

“Nathanos?” He looked up to see Shaw standing in the door to the office, looking relieved though still tense to see him there. 

“I didn’t know he would come after me,” he said quickly, feeling so close to tears despite the fact that he knew he wasn’t able to cry any longer, “Get a healer, he’s nearly dead.” 

“Nathanos what are you talking about?” He was approaching, slowly at first then faster when he realized the person in his lap looked just like him. “Nathanos who-”

Shaw’s words died as he snapped the cord of the amulet at the man in his lap went back to looking how he normally did, pale skin flushed from the cold and blond hair tangled with snow. Nathanos took a shaking breath in at the sight of Anduin, so beautiful and so nearly absent of life, and was surprised by the touch when instead of anger, or screaming, all Shaw did was run a thumb over his cheek with a strange expression on his face. 

Looking to his agents he said, “It seems he’s been found. Fetch us a healer, please.” They left, and he looked back at Nathanos, “I didn’t know you could cry.” 

“I can’t,” he replied, voice thick with emotion. He wished it was something less pathetic than the fear of losing someone he wasn’t even able to have.

Shaw gave a small laugh, more of a huff of breath than anything, and pulled his hand away, showing the wet stain on the leather of his gloves. “Really now?” he asked softly, but Nathanos could tell he wasn’t really asking. 

“I—” he cut off as the door slammed open and in rushed one person he’d hoped to see more than anything and one he’d hoped to not to see on any occasion: Calia Menethil and Genn Greymane. 

“Anduin!” Calia was already shoving Shaw away and drawing the Light to her hands to heal and warm Anduin, completely uncaring how he’d been hurt. 

Conversely, Genn was standing in the door, visibly seething. “What the fuck did you do to him Blightcaller? Here to finally finish your  _ queen’s _ job?” he growled mockingly, and though he’d never admit it aloud, Nathanos was grateful that the man still saw him as the disgusting creature he really was, not the “reformed” person Anduin continually insisted he had become. 

“Yes, because I’d return to Stormwind if I’d done this on purpose like an imbecilic dog,” he snarled back, making Genn shift and start to launch himself at him, stopping only when Calia shoved him back with the Light.

“You can fight after I’ve healed Anduin,” she grumbled, then returned to her work. For all they didn’t agree on  _ many _ things, he was grateful that she was not afraid in the least of the old wolf. Few stood up to Greymane, and he respected her for being one of them. 

And so Genn seethed in the doorway while Calia brought Anduin to, looking exhausted after extended minutes of constant healing spells, and when those beautiful blue eyes finally fluttered open Nathanos awaited the death sentence hanging over his head. Anduin made a small noise and suddenly Calia was being pushed out of the way by a very relieved Shaw. 

“Hey,” Anduin mumbled, bringing a hand up to rest on Shaw’s cheek. 

Shaw opened his mouth, tears filling his eyes, but he seemed unable to speak. He leaned down to lay a kiss on Anduin’s forehead and Nathanos became uncomfortably aware of the fact that Anduin was still resting on his lap. Shifting a little, he tried to think of a way to at least get out from under Anduin’s weight, but froze when a small, cold hand rested on his jaw and drew his head down to look at Anduin again. 

“Thank you for saving me,” he said weakly, voice hoarse. 

“Save? You nearly died out there on some fool crusade to track me,” he snarked, but inside his head questions whirled as to exactly how and why Anduin wasn’t furious with him. 

Anduin chuckled. “I do suppose I got a little caught up following you and then ran out of energy to head home. Not a good idea to fall asleep in the cold, I discovered.” 

Despite the lightness of his tone, Nathanos could hear the fear, the knowledge that he did nearly die, and would have had Nathanos not found him. Blessedly, no one commented on it or berated him for his carelessness, though Nathanos wasn’t sure why Genn hadn’t charged in to rip his head off yet. Looking up, he realized it was because Calia had ushered him out of the room and was closing the door behind her to leave the three of them alone. Whether that was a blessing or a curse he wasn’t sure. 

“I was so scared,” Shaw admitted softly, voice trembling with tears and jaw visibly tensed. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Anduin pulled him into a kiss, not taking his other hand off Nathanos’s jaw. “I thought I’d be able to catch up on snowshoes, but I forgot how much the cold would aggravate my old injuries. I should have told you where I was going. I should have brought you with me.” 

“Why?” Nathanos blurted out, finally feeling too awkward to just stay there silently.

Anduin looked at him curiously. “Why what?”

“Why come after me?” he clarified, irritated that it wasn’t clear what he’d meant.

“Why run away?” Anduin countered, “You know you have a place here right? That we want you here?” 

Nathanos scoffed. “Right, yes, that’s  _ definitely  _ not ridiculous and you two are  _ definitely _ not together and irritated that I get in the way.” 

Anduin was just shaking his head with a smile though, and Shaw chuckled. “You’re an idiot, you know?” Anduin said fondly.

“That’s rich coming from a man that nearly died in the snow because he fell asleep,” Nathanos shot back, but found himself smiling, overcome by the contagious love of the two men he was alone with. 

Shifting a little, Anduin dragged his head down to meet his lips instead of replying, and everything in the entire universe ground to a halt at the feeling of that soft mouth against his own. Wait… what? When Anduin pulled away, Nathanos immediately looked to Shaw, terrified he was about to get shanked, but was only met with an uncharacteristically shy smile. 

“We’ve been trying to tell you for weeks,” Shaw admitted, “You're rather difficult though, so it’s been hard to pin down whether you got the message and didn’t want to be with us or if you just didn’t know what we meant. I’m guessing the latter?” 

For a moment, Nathanos heard nothing but static, then with a sudden rush the fact that this was  _ real _ hit him like a train and he just swallowed down emotion after emotion as they bubbled up within him. Anduin and Shaw cared for him, Anduin had come after him because he loved him, they’d been trying to tell him for weeks and he hadn’t listened. 

“I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out through the emotions, but before they fully dug their claws in and ripped him to shreds, a soft hand on his cheek, and a dagger-calloused palm rested against the top of his spine, grounding him. 

“You’re here now and I’m alright, that’s what matters.” Anduin pulled him into another soft kiss, then pulled back with a smirk. “So, Nath, you’re getting us gifts for Winter Veil right?” 

Oh…  _ Oh shit. _ That was what people who cared about each other did, wasn’t it? That left him not even a full day to get gifts and he also was still going to have to avoid Genn in order to not get torn apart in the streets and probably most shops were closing for the holiday and— 

“Nathanos,  _ Nathanos, _ ” Shaw’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “He’s just messing with you.” 

He looked down to Anduin whose eyes were filled with mischievous glee and sighed. “I almost fell for that you little brat.” 

“I think it would be more accurate to say you  _ did _ fall for it,” Anduin said, giggling, “But I’ll forgive you for not getting me a gift.” 

“Are you saying you don’t think I can improvise a gift in a handful of hours?” Nathanos teased, shooing Anduin off his lap, “Up you get, my king, I have work to do.” 

Anduin shifted himself into Shaw’s lap with a pout, clearly not happy with how his plan turned out. But that didn’t matter, not really, not when Nathanos had hunting and gathering to do in Elowyn and a lot of tanning, sewing and whittling on his hands if he wanted to craft things for these two wonderful men in time for Winter Veil. After all, though certainly uncommon, amongst the Forsaken, engagement gifts were rarely simple. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays to everyone! Thanks so much for reading and, as always, kudos and comments mean the world ❤❤❤


End file.
